


Spirits and Bones

by nah_she_didnt



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Lily marries Snape, Slow Burn, jily, jily au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:47:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29073543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nah_she_didnt/pseuds/nah_she_didnt
Summary: Lily Evans has always had magic. When her father falls on hard times she finds herself married to a mortal who she does not love. Soon, Lily realizes that magic lurks all around her new home in the form of a mysterious stag that comes to visit her. Is there more to her new life than meets the eye?
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter
Comments: 15
Kudos: 21





	1. The Hawthorne

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my first Jily multi-chapter! It's a medieval-esque alternate universe story based loosely upon "Ivy" by Taylor Swift. I've never written a mutli-chapter fic before so I'll very much be building the plane as I fly it (don't be too surprised if I'm editing work after I post it, this all happened very impulsively.)
> 
> A note about the rape/non-con rating: In this story, Lily is in an arranged marriage with a man she doesn't love and is not attracted to. In my mind, any sex they would have is not consensual, hence the rating. I allude to that non-con sex in the story, but I won't go into any details. It's purely a content warning, but as a rape survivor myself, I do not plan on writing any rape scenes. Please feel free to reach out if you have any questions for me!!

Lily knew there was no magic in this place. 

She could always feel magic before she could see it. She felt the vibrations on her fingertips, the electricity beneath her bare feet on hallowed ground. Magic was light, intense. This house, however, sat heavily upon the earth. Nothing buzzed beneath her feet as she stood and looked up at its high walls. She could see the window sills were still covered in heavy snow from last night’s storm.

“Come, now.” Petunia seized her above the elbow and marched her toward the front door. Her dress itched her arm beneath her sister’s hand. It was new, deep green silk and trimmed with braided bronze fabric. Petunia deemed the color acceptable against Lily’s pale complexion. “We may as well try to make the most of it,” Petunia had huffed, glaring at Lily’s deep red hair. Red hair was generally regarded as unlucky, and Petunia was sure that it would prevent Lily from making a proper match. 

Their father trailed behind his daughters. He didn’t speak, but Lily thought she saw him flinch when Petunia grabbed her arm. He had a gentle heart, she knew, but he was a weak man. Far too weak to stand up for her now. 

Lily felt her sense of dread grow as they marched toward the oak front door of the house. This was never supposed to be her future. Her mother had taught her to read, write, and heal before the age of six. Lily was supposed to become a proper healer and perhaps, one day, marry if she chose. As the youngest daughter of a wealthy man she had options. Now that she was the youngest daughter of a poor former lord she was only a burden.

Petunia knocked, and the family waited in silence for someone to appear at the door. A small girl in a simple black dress, her hair tucked into a bonnet, answered and bade them enter. The house was certainly larger than an average cottage but seemed contradictory. Fine tapestries lined walls made of dilapidated old stones. There were expensive-looking trinkets displayed on every surface, but the place had a musty smell to it. This, Lily supposed, was the trouble with coming into new money. There was enough to decorate your home so that it appeared impressive, but not enough to truly live as the wealthy lived.

The girl led them down the hall and into a large room lit with torches. Ominous-looking paintings of sour men grimaced down at them from above. “My master will be with ye’ soon,” squeaked the girl, and she left the room. 

Lily wasn’t sure what to do now. Should she sit and arrange herself into a pleasing pose on one of the chairs? Should she stand by the fireplace? No, Petunia would probably say that the firelight would only exacerbate her already unfortunate hair. She compromised by standing between her father and sister, trying to look more confident than she felt. 

The door banged open and Lily jumped. A tall, mean-faced man stood in the doorway. He had long, lank, jet-black hair that fell into his black eyes. His clothes looked expensive, but not well cared for. She noticed a burn on his collar as if he had let ash from his pipe burn away the fabric there. 

The man strode into the room, followed by a boy around her age. He too had long dark hair that looked unwashed, but he didn’t look hard like his father. He looked frightened. 

“So,” said the older man, as he shook Lily’s father’s hand, “how are you, Bartholomew?” 

“I am well, Tobias” said her father, who looked as if he were also trying to exude confidence where he had none, “this is my daughter, Lady Petunia Dursley.” 

“Charming girl,” Tobias took her sister’s hand and kissed it, “I’ve done business with your husband, Lady. A fine gentleman.” 

Petunia beamed. “Your acquaintance with my husband does not surprise me,” she simpered, batting her eyelids, “he trades with all the most noble men in the country.” 

The man let out a mirthless, booming laugh. “Oh, my dear, you flatter me. And this,” he said, pushing his son forward, “Is my son, Severus. Say hello, boy.” 

“‘Lo,” Snape muttered, not looking at Lily.

His father nudged him hard in the shoulder, “Louder, so the lady can hear you. It’s never too early for a wife to learn to heed her husband’s words, am I correct, Bartholomew?” 

Lily’s father produced a tight-lipped smile in response. Lily felt her face burn. 

“Now,” Tobias growled, as if he had just noticed that Lily was in the room, “this must be your youngest. Shame my own wife lives and that this flower is to be given to my son.” 

Petunia laughed. Lily felt like she might be sick. 

“You honor me, my lord,” she said through gritted teeth. She knew she had to appease the father if she was to marry the son.

He leered at her for a moment more, then turned back to her father. “Right,” he said, rubbing his hands together eagerly, “I believe we have some business to attend to. Come, step into my study and we can finalize the arrangement. I believe your daughter can serve as chaperone for the time being. Not that they’ll need a chaperone much longer, ha!” And with that, Tobias motioned for her father to follow him out of the hall. Her father gave Lily one apologetic look, then left the room. 

Lily, Petunia, and Severus stood in silence for a moment. 

“Shall we sit?” Severus gestured awkwardly to the chairs in front of the fire. Desperate for something to do, Lily followed him. The chair was intricately decorated but uncomfortable, and she tried to arrange her hands in her lap like she’d seen other ladies do. 

Petunia sat stiff as a board in her chair. “So, Severus,” Petunia sniffed, “what do you intend to do for an occupation when you and my sister marry?”

Severus looked surprised that Petunia had spoken so frankly. “I plan to manage the land that belongs to my father while I learn his trade. He trades luxury goods to nobbles.” 

Petunia pursed her lips, and Lily could tell that she was trying to hide her displeasure. “Lovely. Doesn’t that sound lovely, Lily?” 

“Yes, very lovely” said Lily quickly, “where is this land, Severus?” Where is the land where I will spend the rest of my depressing life, she wanted to say. 

Snape motioned towards the wall lined with windows. “Just over the hill there, we’ll still be close to my father.” 

“Oh. Good.” She forced herself to smile, but she felt hopelessness begin to close in. This could not be her life.

“The house is modest, but not uncomfortable,” he looked slightly embarrassed now, “father says that if I learn his trade I may one day knock it down and build a grander house. A castle, maybe.” 

Lily smiled and nodded as if this idea pleased her. All she could think about was getting out of this itchy dress. 

They sat in silence for several long minutes. Lily felt her thoughts drift back to her mother. The elders in her town said that her mother, Isadora, was the daughter of faeries, that she knew the ways of old magic. It had caused a minor scandal when Isadora had married Lily’s father. She didn’t come from money, and her father had been a wealthy and influential man back then. He always said that he married her mother for love, not for advantage. This had always been Isadora’s plan for Lily as well. Petunia dreamed of a good match ever since she was a little girl, but Lily had magic in her bones. 

Her mother had noticed Lily’s magic one day as they walked through the woods together. Lily remembered that she had grown hot under her blue child’s dress and tugged at her sleeves and collar. Her mother had asked her what was wrong. Lily replied that the air around her pricked at her skin. 

Ever since that day Isadora taught her daughter to recognize signs of magic in the earth. They walked into the forest and pressed their palms to tree trunks to feel the vibrations beneath the surface. They let water rush over their feet until Lily could trace the stream’s progress over the rounded stones in the riverbed. And, most importantly, Isadora had taught her to heal. 

The doors banged open again. Tobias and her father strode into the room, Tobias roaring with laughter over some unknown joke. 

“Cozy, are we?” Tobias smirked down at Lily and Severus. She saw Severus’ sallow skin flush with embarrassment. 

“We will return in one week for the ceremony,” Lily’s father extended a hand to Tobias. He shook it vigorously. 

“Yes, soon these lovebirds won’t have to wait anymore to be husband and wife. I’m sure you are both thrilled, are you not?”

Neither Lily or Severus spoke. Petunia poked Lily hard in the back so Tobias couldn’t see.

“Yes, thrilled, my lord.” She hoped that she wouldn’t have to sound this disingenuous for the rest of her life. 

\--

The ceremony was not a grand affair. Only Lily, Severus, and their immediate families attended. Lily read vows off a scrap of paper written in her sister’s hand. They had been the vows that Petunia used when she married Vernon. The words made Lily want to jump into a well. 

After the ceremony Severus showed her to their new home. It was a small stone cottage with two floors, a dusty kitchen, and a small space for a garden outside. It was grim, Lily couldn’t lie to herself, but she supposed there were worse circumstances in which to live. At least she had a view of the pasture of sheep from her sitting room window. The only thing that truly enchanted her about the house were the tendrils of ivy that covered the walls from ground to sky. The branches snaked so thick across the stones that Lily could hardly see the blue-gray bricks beneath. 

The wedding night was, mercifully, brief. Severus fumbled for her in the dark for a few moments while she lay as still as possible. She should be grateful, she supposed, that he did not have his father’s strength or appetite. He seemed timid to touch her, as if she was made of glass and would break at any moment. This did not, however, stop him from consummating the marriage. 

She spent a few days exploring the grounds around the house. Severus spent most of his days with his father, so Lily traipsed through the growing snow banks that blanketed the fields and forest. For three days she felt no magic. The trees here seemed as dead as the big house had felt. But then, on the fourth day after her wedding, Lily felt something. 

As she approached the expanse of forest at the edge of their property she ground beneath her feet grow warm. It was hard to tell through the thick snow boots she wore, so she removed her shoes and stood with her feet planted firmly on the ground. The snow felt unnaturally warm to the touch, as if she stood on sun-baked sand not frozen water. 

She took a step forward and winced, withdrawing her foot from the frozen earth. She turned west and stepped again, this time feeling warmth once more. She meandered like this for a while, leaving an unpredictable pattern of footsteps behind her as she pursued the magic. After about an hour Lily noticed that her neck ached. She had been so busy watching the ground around her that she hadn’t bothered to look up. 

Lily raised her head and gasped. She found herself in a clearing in the woods, surrounded by an unnaturally-perfect circle of trees. In the clearing’s dead center stood a lone Hawthorne tree. Lily recognized the tree’s branches as a Hawthorne from her studies with her mother. Legend said that Hawthornes were the doorway between the magical and mortal worlds. Most mortal people did not trust them. Farmers often ignored Hawthornes that stood in their fields, refusing to cut them down to make room for livestock, lest they anger the faeries that lived there. 

Lily knew better than to fear a Hawthorne tree, but she still kept a safe distance. She could just make out a group of strange markings carved into the trunk. No mortal would dare to mark a Hawthorne tree…

She took a step forward, feeling the warmth grow once more beneath her feet. Suddenly, she heard a loud snapping of branches, and nearly jumped out of her own skin. She whirled around to find the culprit.

An enormous, magnificent stag loomed between two trees surrounding the clearing. His coat was chestnut brown, and the tops of his antlers stood at least ten feet off the ground. The stag looked at her curiously, his head tilted to one side as if he had never seen anything like her before. Perhaps he hadn’t, she thought, she wasn’t sure how populated these woods were. Suddenly she felt nervous, those antlers looked like they were more than capable of ripping through her flesh if the stag felt threatened.

Lily held up her hands in front of her placatingly. “I’m sorry,” she said in a loud, clear voice, “I’ll leave now.” Why on earth was she speaking to a stag as if he could understand her?

The stag huffed and pawed the ground nervously. She backed away, hands still raised, but to her surprise the stag followed her. He approached her slowly until he was directly in front of her, then lowered his magnificent head. Somehow she knew what the stag wanted from her. 

She reached out a trembling hand and placed her palm between the stag’s eyes. She felt a jolt run through her and flinched, yanking her hand back in surprise. The stag gave her one last knowing look and turned to gallop away into the trees.


	2. New Wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lily discovers a new power, meets a boy with familiar brown eyes, and finds a friend in Remus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I am definitely learning on the job here. This story is going to require a lot more world-building than I'm used to, so please be patient with me! Thank you all for your kind reviews so far, and enjoy chapter 2!

It soon became clear that Lily was a hopeless cook. She never had to cook for herself at her father’s house. Even after he had lost his money they still had at least one servant to cook for the family. Plus, her mother certainly never taught her how to fry an egg or bake bread. She never wasted her time on such domestic duties. So, after Lily burned yet another roast in the kitchen’s large iron oven, Severus decided to procure a maid. 

She came to them during Lily’s first week at the new house. Lily recognized the small girl from the day of her engagement at Tobias Snape’s house. She introduced herself as Mary Macdonald, a local girl from the village down the road. 

Severus also hired a local boy as a farmhand for the property’s sprawling fields. His name was Remus, and to Lily’s dismay, he slept in the barn loft a hundred paces from the house. 

“Surely he’ll freeze out there,” she had pleaded with Severus when the boy came to work for them. 

Severus smirked. “Nonsense. He’s just a poor boy from the village, I should think he’d be used to such conditions. Won’t you, boy?”

Remus nodded curtly, not meeting Severus’ eyes. Lily surveyed the boy curiously. He looked lean but strong, with sandy brown hair and a large scar that sliced his right cheek She wondered how a poor farm boy had come to have such a prominent mark. 

“Anyway,” Severus continued, turning back to Lily, “I hired him in part to guard my affairs when I am away from my home, but I do not think it would be proper for him to sleep here in the same house as my wife. Although look at him, it’s not as if he’s much of a threat.” He smirked again. His dull teeth looked yellow against his pale skin. “You don’t seem like much of a ladies’ man, boy.” 

Remus shook his head once. Lily frowned. “I don’t think there’s any need for talk like that.” 

Severus jerked his head around to face her, surprise and anger etched into his face. “I don’t believe my talk is any of your concern, wife.

Lily said nothing but did not break Severus’ gaze. He often spoke to her like this, reminding her of her place as his wife, not his partner. But she had not yet found Severus to be a cruel man. He even showed her a few kindnesses. One evening he even brought her a new cloak from his father’s inventory. The cloak was fine quality and kept the heat from her body close to her skin as she traipsed through the snowy forest. 

However, Severus was also sullen and mirthless. He rarely laughed, and when he did it was a humorless sound. He smirked when she did not know the name of some lord he had visited that day for work or sneered when he heard that a rival trader had died of old age. 

Fortunately, Lily did not have to speak with her husband often. She spent her days exploring the land, weaving in between the trees and tracing paths along the stream that ran through the forest. Soon she was able to map the land in her head. She knew what short cuts would get her to the forest the quickest and that the stream flowed in the opposite direction of her house. 

Severus still spent most of his days at his father’s house learning his trade and Lily was free to roam the forest just as she had the day she found the hawthorn. 

Weeks had passed and she had not been able to find the tree again. She tried to retrace the magic in the earth but the ground grew frozen and dead once more. When she removed her shoes and placed her feet upon the snow it was bitterly cold and burned the soft skin under her toes. Still, she walked for as long as she could stand barefoot, hoping to feel the snow grow warm beneath her once more. 

One day, as she walked through the forest barefoot, she cut her foot open on a large jagged rock. “Shit,” she muttered and shuffled across the path to a tree stump. There she sat and examined the damage. 

The cut was long, but not deep. A thin trail of blood snaked down her heel and dropped into tiny pinpricks of crimson against the snow. Nothing she couldn’t manage. 

Lily closed her eyes, trying to block out all sound, thoughts, or emotions surrounding her. When she felt her mind clear and her body vibrate with energy, she pressed her palm against the bloody cut. She held her hand there for a few moments, then pulled away to examine her work. The skin began to knit itself back together slowly. Soon there was no sign of the cut at all. 

She glanced around quickly but saw no one. The woods were always deserted, but she still felt better knowing for sure that no one had seen her heal. The villagers did not trust magic, and she was sure that her husband would be livid if he witnessed what she had just done. 

Lily sighed and began to lace her feet back into her boots. She knew that she must begin her long walk back to the house. It was nearly dark, and Severus often grew suspicious when she returned late. She stood up and smoothed her long cloak, disappointed that she had been unable to locate the hawthorn yet again. 

The walk back to the house was slow work. She often had to stop and wrestle her cloak back from the thistles that grew between the large oak trees. The sun began to dip below the horizon just as she reached the edge of the woods. She stood panting for a moment, pulling a twig from her long braid, and gazed towards the cottage. She saw smoke rising from the chimney and silently thanked Mary for the warm fire that she must have built. Suddenly, Lily heard rustling leaves behind her and whirled around. 

The stag stood across a clearing from her and was partially obscured behind a thick tree trunk. His eyes always startled her a bit. They were huge, deep brown, and vaguely familiar. 

Lily let out a deep breath and fixed the stag with a bemused expression. “You again,” she called out to him across the clearing, “I’m never quite able to get rid of you, am I?” 

The stag cocked his head to the side in response. She often found herself wondering if the animal could understand her speech. This was the fourth time she had run into the beast in the forest. The second time she had still been afraid of his powerful form and sharp antlers. The third time she had stroked the soft fur on his face once more. This time, she was not afraid in the slightest. If the stag wanted to hurt her he would have done so already. 

\--

The next afternoon found Lily sitting by the fireside attempting to embroider a scrap of fabric. She’d picked up this new hobby out of sheer boredom. Outside the snow fell so thickly that she couldn’t quite bring herself to leave the comfort of the fireside to explore the woods today. She paused her needle and examined her work so far. Her first attempt at art was a bright yellow daisy, except it looked more like a bright yellow worm. 

Lily threw down the embroidery hoop and stretched, frustrated at how cooped up she felt. As she stretched she glanced out the window. A hooded figure walked down the lane in front of the house. She wore thick woolen mittens and carried a basket of what looked like holly branches. 

At that moment, Mary entered the sitting room. She shuffled over to the fire and placed another log on top of the dying flames. 

“Mary, I wish you would let me do that,” Lily called to her, “I’m perfectly capable.” 

Mary smiled sweetly at her. “Master Severus would not like it, ma’am. I’m to make sure you are well taken care of while he’s away.” 

Lily gestured around the room. “Look at me. I’m warm, I’m fed, I’m content. I’d say your job is done.” 

Mary looked as if she didn’t know what to say to that. Lily sighed. She hadn’t quite been able to break through Mary’s sweet exterior to see who lay beneath, but perhaps she would with time. 

“Mary,” she called before the girl could leave the room, “do you see that woman outside?” 

Mary glanced out the window. She blanched when her gaze fell upon the old woman.

“Oh, you’d best keep your distance, ma’am. ‘Tis a witch.” 

“A witch?” Lily glanced back at the woman. The woman looked perfectly ordinary. “What makes you say she is a witch?” 

Mary shrugged. “It’s known in the village, ma’am. She gathers herbs and plants in the forest and uses them to curse all who cross her.” 

Lily laughed. “Herbs and plants aren’t dangerous, they’re useful. Perhaps this woman uses her concoctions to help people.” 

This was the wrong thing to say. Mary sniffed and smoothed out her skirts. “Is that all, ma’am?” 

“Yes,” Lily smiled sadly, “of course. Thank you, Mary. You may take for the rest of the afternoon for yourself.” Mary curtsied, looking confused, and backed out of the room. 

Lily eyed her needlework. Her craftsmanship was pathetic, but there was nothing else to do, so she resumed her work. An hour later her fingertips were red raw and covered in small spots of blood where she had pricked herself. 

The kitchen door, visible to Lily from her spot in the sitting room, banged open, letting in a thick cloud of snowflakes. Remus did his best to stamp his boots on the landing before trudging into the house, but he still tracked large snowy footprints across the floor. Another man carrying firewood trailed behind. He had shoulder-length black hair that was flecked with snow and he wore a coat made of shaggy, black animal fur. He was also laughing. 

“Blimey,” he chuckled, “that master of yours, he’s a riot. Did you see him trip over that snowbank out back? What a tosser.” 

Remus cleared his throat loudly. “This is my mistress, Lady Lily. M’lady, please excuse the interruption. My master hired these men for labor and told us to replenish your firewood.” 

“Thank you, Remus, but you are interrupting nothing.” Lily faced the newcomer, “welcome, sir. What is your name?”

The man grinned broadly. He was quite handsome. “Sirius, m’lady. I’m sorry that I spoke freely about your husband. He is a… fine man.” 

Lily hid her smile. “I think you’ll find that you may speak freely in front of me, Sirius. Please, have a seat, warm yourself.” 

Sirius’ face broke into a wide smile. “Much obliged,” he said, collapsing onto the couch across from Lily and put his feet up on the sitting-room table. Remus paled.

“My lady,” he said, his voice pleading, “I do not think Master Severus would approve-” 

“Nonsense,” Lily smiled, “he said himself that I have run of the house while he is gone. Besides, I’ve been bored all day, and a new face is a rare treat. Please, Remus, sit if you wish.” 

Remus looked unsure. He compromised by standing awkwardly between Sirius and Lily, his hands outstretched to warm in the fire’s glow.

“So, Sirius,” Lily turned to face her guest, “tell me about yourself. Do you live in the village?”

Sirius laughed. “No, lady, I do not. I live in the forest.”

“The forest?” she frowned slightly. She’d never seen another soul in the forest during her many daytime walks. 

“Yes, I live there with my brother. We often hunt and forage for food, but some necessities require common money, so we take odd jobs to make ends meet. That is how I came to your house today. I was just telling Ja-”

The door banged open once more. Severus’ gaze fell upon the scene, Remus warming himself by the fire and Sirius sitting on the couch with his feet up. Anger sparked in his face. 

“Black,” he hissed dangerously, “what do you think you are doing?”

Sirius quickly swung his feet off the table and to the floor. “Apologies, Severus, your wife invited me to sit with her.”

Severus’ eyes narrowed. “That’s ‘Master Severus,’ boy. Know your place. How dare you sit in my home in your filthy pelts, how dare you speak to my wife.”

“Severus,” Lily said angrily, “I hardly think that’s neces-” 

“Quiet,” Severus snapped at her. Lily opened her mouth to retaliate but instead gasped. 

Another man entered the house behind her husband. He had untidy black hair, dark skin, and deep brown eyes. It was his eyes that startled her. She was sure she’d seen them before. 

Lily stared at the new man, and the man stared back at her nervously. “Erm,” he stuttered, blinking rapidly, “Hello, I’m James, er, m’lady.”

Lily realized too late that she was staring at James. Severus’ eyes had grown dark with malice as he watched his wife. He glanced between Lily and the new man, recognition dawning in his face. Then, he spun around to face Sirius again. 

“You,” he spat, “get out of my house. You and your brother have exactly one minute to get as far away from this property as possible, is that clear? There will be no payment for you, either of you, today.” 

Sirius stood from the couch. He was shorter than Severus by a few inches, but his gaze was still threatening enough to make her husband tremble slightly. “Look mate, fire us if you want, but at least pay us for our work as an honest man would.” 

Severus took a step back from Sirius and pointed toward the door. “Go. Take him,” Severus pointed at the man with the deep brown eyes, “with you. Never darken my doorstep again if you know what’s good for you.”

Sirius chuckled mirthlessly. “Is that a threat, ‘my lord’?” 

“Sirius,” James crossed the room and grabbed Sirius by the upper arm, “come on, it’s not worth it.” 

“I disagree,” Sirius smirked Severus. 

“Sirius,” James said, his voice low and dangerous, “now.” 

Sirius relented and made to leave with James. Then, as though he suddenly changed his mind, he turned back and spat on the floor at Severus’ feet. “We will remember this.” 

Severus looked ashen. He watched the men leave, his chest heaving as though he had run a long distance. Sirius walked out the door but James looked back once, smiled at Lily, then followed his brother out into the winter storm. 

Severus strode across the room and grabbed Lily by the arm. “Do you know that man?” 

Lily struggled but his grip tightened vice-like on her elbow. “No, Severus, I swear I do not!”

“Do not lie to me!” he roared, eyes wild with rage, “You’ve seen him before, I know it. Does he come here when I am away?” 

“No!” Lily yanked her arm out of his grip, “I’ve never seen that man in my life. Control yourself.” 

Severus looked livid. He raised his hand as if to strike. Lily closed her eyes and raised her arms to cover herself. 

Suddenly, a burst of energy seemed to shoot from her fingertips. Lily startled and dropped her arms as Severus cried out in pain. A long scratch had appeared along the hand he had raised against her. She stared at the new wound, shocked. Surely she could not have caused the cut, could she? 

He looked at her wildly. “What did you do to me, woman?” He hissed, clutching his bleeding hand.

“N-nothing,” she stammered, still flexing her fingers where the energy had been a minute before, “it must have happened before, perhaps when you carried the firewood.” 

Severus stood still, breathing heavily. His eyes whipped wildly from Lily to Remus, to the back door, then back to Lily. After a moment of silence, he seemed to calm down. He spun on his heel and stormed to the kitchen. 

“Come,” he barked over his shoulder, “help me bandage this hand.” 

Lily’s hand curled into a fist behind her back. “I’m sorry, my lord,” she called after him, “you should ask Mary. I’m afraid I have no skills for healing.” 

He strode out of the room without another word. Remus, who still stood next to the fireplace, leapt out of Severus’ warpath. He gaped at Lily.

“What did you just do?” he whispered. Lily unclenched her fist and rubbed her eyes. 

“Nothing he didn’t deserve. But Remus,” she fixed him with an intense gaze, “you must never tell. Anyone. Please, Remus.” 

Remus placed his hand over his heart. “You have my word, lady.” 

She laughed weakly and lowered herself back into her seat next to the fire. “Call me Lily, please.” 

He smiled slightly. “We’ll see about that.” Then he turned from the room and left her alone. 

Lily sank further into the chair’s cushions. Her thoughts were still fixed on that man, James. She was sure she knew him, sure she had spoken to him before. His eyes were as familiar to her as if she had stared into them all her life.


	3. The Witch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lily gets unwelcome advice from her sister, meets a mysterious old woman, and finds an alliance with Remus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm realizing that I made a few plot errors in the first chapter, but y'all will have to forgive me since this is my first novella! So don't be surprised if there are a few small changes from here on out, lol. I'll do my best do update y'all if I change anything big.
> 
> Thank you again for everyone who has read and commented!! Your comments make my day!
> 
> CW once again for an extremely brief rape reference

Weeks went by, and soon spring crept at the corners of the earth. The snow began to thaw and new buds peaked through the warming soil. Lily would soon be able to find and harvest the plants her mother showed her a lifetime ago. She would dry Marigolds to treat stings, gather Alexanders for stomach pain, and dig up bramble roots to soothe aches and coughs. Spring had always been her favorite season. She marveled at the way every year the bleak earth was reborn into something unrecognizable once more.

The problem with Spring, Lily soon realized, is that the melting snow gave way for travel once more. One day she received a letter from Petunia who wrote that she planned to visit as soon as the roads dried enough for her carriage to move across them once more. Petunia did not include in the letter the true meaning for her visit, which Lily suspected was to check up on her progress as a wife. 

The carriage arrived a few days later, and a stout horseman leapt down from his perch above the carriage to open the door. Petunia stepped clumsily down from the carriage, grimacing as she steadied herself upon the horseman’s arm. Lily knew that touching such a lowly servant probably pained her sister. She smirked. Petunia should have thought of that before she had chosen such a gaudy dress that made it impossible for her to move freely. No doubt she chose the dress in an attempt to make her sister jealous. 

“Darling Lily,” Petunia simpered as she kissed Lily once on each cheek, “how are you? How is married life treating you?” 

Lily tried not to roll her eyes. “As well as can be expected, I suppose.” 

Petunia frowned. “You know I have never appreciated your dark humor, sister.” 

“Yes, well. Come, let’s sit in the garden. The crocuses have just begun to bloom.” Lily gestured to the gate on the low stone fence that led to her back garden. 

Petunia wrinkled her nose. “May we not sit inside? This dress is far too fine to be ruined by garden muck.” 

Soon they sat in awkward silence in front of the fireplace. Mary brought them a pot of tea and a plate of crackers. Lily watched as her sister nibbled around the corners of her cracker then placed it back onto her plate. She could not help but notice how gray her sister looked. 

“Is everything well, Petunia?” she cautioned, “are you tired from your journey?” 

At this, Petunia practically beamed. She rarely smiled, so Lily was not used to how happiness looked upon her face, but she detected a triumph in Petunia’s features that was impossible to ignore. 

“I have news,” she sighed, drawing a hand to her abdomen, “I am with child.” 

Lily blinked. “Oh,” she managed, dragging a smile onto her lips, “uh, congratulations.” 

“Yes, well, Vernon was ever so pleased when I told him. He said we would name him Dudley, after Vernon’s father. He really was a remarkable man-” 

“Sorry,” Lily interrupted, “how do you know it’s going to be a boy?” 

Petunia glared at her. “Of course he will be a boy. Vernon will need assistance with the business someday, he must have a son to carry on the family legacy.” 

Lily nodded, not bothering to mention that desire for a boy did not make one ounce of difference in a baby’s sex. “And if it is a girl?” 

“For God’s sake, Lily,” Petunia whined, “can you not just be happy for me, for once?” 

Lily shrugged. “I am happy for you. I just mean that I’m sure you will love your child no matter it’s sex, that’s all.” 

The air between them grew chilly. Petunia stared down at the hand that caressed her bump angrily. “I should have known you would ruin this.” 

“How have I ruined anything?” Lily fought the urge to laugh in frustration, “I have said congratulations, said I’m happy for you, and said I am sure you will be a good mother. What else is there?” 

“Do not think I’ve noticed that you are not pregnant yet,” Petunia sneered, “having difficulty holding Severus’ attention, are we?” 

Lily did not answer this. When she had first married Severus she certainly had not suffered from any lack of attention in that regard. But ever since she had cut his hand Severus had kept his distance. He left for long hours at a time, often spending the night at his father’s house and avoiding her bed at night. She certainly could not complain. She much preferred being alone to being in his company anyway. 

Petunia scoffed. “That is it, is it not? You’re jealous of my fortune.” 

Lily’s eyes snapped back to her sister’s. “Is that what you call it? I was not aware a child was an economic achievement.” 

Petunia laughed mirthlessly. “Of course it is, idiot girl. That is all there is in this world. You either serve your husband, or you do not. Do not take your frustrations out on me if you cannot obey Severus.” 

“Well,” Lily sighed, taking another sip of now-cold tea, “I certainly will not weep because I cannot be servant, mother, and wet nurse to my husband all at once.” 

Petunia stood suddenly, her face contorted into a snarl. “I am leaving. You were a wicked child and now you are a wicked woman. I hope you rot here.” 

“I probably will, thanks to you and father,” Lily spat. She was tired of hearing all her life what a miserable disappointment she was to her sister. “Leave, and when your daughter is born you do not dare to name her after our mother.” 

Petunia threw her one last hateful glance before turning on her heel to march out the door. Lily heard the sound of the horseman jumping down from his perch once more to help his mistress into the carriage, and then they were off once more. 

Lily sat for a long while gazing into the dying flames. She hated her sister, but she also pitied her. She had not benefited from their mother’s training as Lily had. Perhaps if she had been magic too she could have learned to want more from life than to be Vernon’s lapdog for the rest of her days. But then Lily remembered how happy, truly happy, Petunia had looked on her wedding day. She began to regret the fight with her sister. Who was she to question Petunia’s decisions? 

A movement through the window caught Lily’s attention. The old woman with the basket of holly branches was back, only this time her basket was empty and she walked in the direction of the woods. Lily sprang to her feet and ran to the door, pausing only to grab her cloak and force her feet into the boots she had carelessly discarded earlier that day. 

She wrenched open the heavy door and ran into the front yard. “Wait! Stop!” she called after the woman. 

The figure stilled and turned slowly to face her. She had long, black hair with streaks of silver that fell into ringlets around her face. Her eyes were so grey they were nearly white. Lily startled. Her mother’s eyes had been almost exactly that shade.

Lily ran forward to face the woman. “May I ask your name?” 

The woman smiled. “You may, although considering you have not given me yours, I may not answer.”

“Oh,” Lily fumbled, feeling her cheeks flush, “I’m Lily. This is my house,” she gestured carelessly behind her. 

The woman looked up at the great stone building. “Is it? It’s a fine house. You must be very happy there.” 

Lily did her best not to laugh at this. “But please, tell me, who are you?” 

Crinkles appeared at the corners of the woman’s grey eyes. “My name is Euphemia, lady. I do not live far from here.” 

“Oh, please, I’m no lady,” Lily crossed her arms across her stomach, suddenly self-conscious. 

“It does not appear that way,” Euphemia gestured to Lily’s cloak and dress, “your clothes are fine, your hands soft. You look fed and watered, and I believe I just interrupted your afternoon tea. Does that not make you a lady?” 

Lily felt annoyance flicker in her. “I’m sorry,” she frowned, “have I offended you in some way?” 

Euphemia laughed. “No, dear, you haven’t. Forgive me, I’m not used to speaking with residents of this town, and I’m afraid I spoke out of turn. Would you like to walk with me for a while?” 

Lily hesitated, glancing back at the house. It would be dark soon, and Severus might choose tonight of all nights to return home after a day in his father’s house. But then again, he had not been home for three days, why should he pick tonight to call upon her again? 

“Alright,” she said carefully, then fell into step beside the woman. They walked in silence for a few minutes. Lily felt uncomfortable as if she should fill the silence with small talk. 

Euphemia, however, walked happily beside her, gazing around at the newly-budding trees with great interest. “You are new to this house.” It was not a question. 

Lily nodded. “I married Severus last winter, and now I live here.” She tried not to let the bitterness show in her voice. 

Euphemia smiled. “You eat and lay to rest there, perhaps. But I can feel you come more and more alive with each step you take away from that place. How have you found the woods so far?” 

She stared stupidly at Euphemia for a moment. This woman became stranger by the minute. “How do you know that I’ve even been in the woods at all?” 

“It’s in the way you move,” she said simply, “you walk as if you are anticipating your next step. You walk like someone who has tread forests with no paths many times before.” 

Lily did not know what to say to that. “I like them well,” she said finally, “I feel it is the only place I can feel like myself once more.” 

They were at least two hundred paces from her house now. Lily turned back and found she could barely see the building’s outline over the crest of a hill. She would have to be careful to make it back before sundown. 

She could feel Euphemia’s eyes on the back of her head as she looked. “When is the last time you felt like yourself? In your old house?” 

Lily nodded. “When my mother was alive. She died when I was a child. But she used to take me to the woods and teach me about forest magic.” 

She stopped suddenly in her tracks. Euphemia’s warmth had fooled her into speaking too freely.

Euphemia halted too and looked at her intently. “It’s alright. I’m not shocked by anything you’ve told me.” 

Lily avoided her gaze. “That is not what I meant. I just meant, you know, she taught me about the forest’s magical beauty.” 

“Yes, that is what you meant I’m sure.” Euphemia chuckled. “You know, child, that they call me witch?” 

Lily nodded, still not looking at the older woman. “I did,” she said apologetically, “my serving girl told me. She’s terrified of you.” 

Euphemia laughed loudly which showed her straight, white teeth. Lily found that, but for the streaks of silver in her hair, she could not determine exactly how old Euphemia was. She seemed wise and experienced, but her skin was soft and smooth. It did not sag as the skin on her grandmother’s face had, but instead glowed as if she were blessed with unnatural youth. 

“I don’t blame her. Many of the villagers are afraid of me. They fear what they do not understand.” 

“And what do they not understand?” Lily said eagerly. She found that she wanted to know all about this woman, where she came from, and what she did in the forest. 

Euphemia sighed. “They have never seen a woman live so well on her own. A woman who provides for herself and does not seek out the company of men. They assume I am a wicked witch, and I’m content in letting them think so. Now,” she glanced at the sun that hovered just above the horizon, “it looks like you should be getting back. I don’t want you to walk alone in the dark, do you understand me?” 

Lily flinched at her suddenly harsh tone. “Yes, I understand,” she stammered. She felt the urgency in Euphemia’s voice. 

Euphemia nodded. “Good. Well, I must go, but thank you for walking with me, Lily Evans.” She turned on her heel and vanished into the forest. 

“Bye,” Lily whispered dazedly at the woman’s back. It suddenly occurred to her that she had never told Euphemia her married name, let alone her maiden name.

\--

The next morning Lily passed Remus in the fields. She was on her way to the forest to explore a new section of the stream that had recently become unfrozen. The fields had thawed by then. For the past few days, Remus had worked tirelessly at the old plow Severus had inherited from his grandfather. As if those delicate hands would ever touch a plow, Lily thought savagely. 

Remus looked dreadful. His eyes were rimmed with red as if he had not slept. He had a fresh cut on his cheek to accompany his already-prominent scar. 

“Are you alright?” Lily called out to him.

Remus startled and dropped the plow. “F-fine, m’lady.” 

She smiled at him playfully. “One day you will call me Lily, I swear it.” 

He grinned, then winced, as if the effort of moving the muscles in his face irritated his fresh wound. 

“Oh, come here,” Lily beckoned. Remus looked uncertain but shuffled across the field to stand before her. She touched a finger gingerly to his skin. She knew she could not heal him, he already knew too much about her abilities after that day with Snape, but she could gather herbs that would help him. 

“I will bring you back some Lady’s Mantle for that cut,” she declared. 

Remus’ face grew warm. “Please, do not go through that trouble for me.” 

“Nonsense,” she smiled, “it is the least I can do. I have a feeling that my husband does not compensate you well for your work here.” 

Remus said nothing but smiled at her more broadly than he ever had before. Suddenly, his gaze fell upon something over Lily’s shoulder. She frowned, turning to see what he was looking at. 

Sirius strode across the field toward them. Today he wore a shirt and trousers made of black fur instead of his long shaggy coat from a few weeks ago. He paused a short distance away from Lily and Remus and bowed dramatically before her. 

“Gentle lady,” he oozed, holding his arms aloft while he lowered his nose so close to the ground he could kiss it, “please pardon my interruption and let me approach your most noble person.” 

Lily laughed. She could not help it. There was something about Sirius that she had noticed right away. He never seemed to take anything, especially himself, too seriously. 

“Arise, gentleman,” she said in a mock-pompous voice. He bounced back to his feet grinning. “What can we do for you today?” 

Sirius was not looking at her. His eyes passed her and fell on Remus. “Hello again,” he almost whispered. 

Remus flushed even deeper scarlet than before and murmured “hullo” under his breath. 

Lily cleared her throat. “Again, Sirius, how can we help you?”

“Right,” Sirius said distractedly, wrenching his gaze from Remus, “I came here to tell you both something. My comrade and I, James, I think you’ll remember him, m’lady,” Lily tried to keep her face inscrutable at these words, “frequent a tavern in town. It’s called The Hog’s Head. It’s quiet, cozy, just the way we like things.” His eyes burned with mischief when he said this as if they were missing out on some inside joke. “Anyway, I’m here to cordially invite you both there on Thursday next. That is if you can get away, of course.” 

Lily felt her pulse quicken. The offer to see the boy with the familiar brown eyes again was enticing. Plus she yeared for a day away from her house and her miserable husband. 

She arranged her face into a neutral expression. “Thank you for your invitation. I will consider your offer. Remus, of course, you may go where you please.” 

She looked expectantly at Remus, who nodded vigorously. “Yes,” he breathed, his ears still pink, “I will come.” 

“Splendid!” Sirius barked, grinning wildly. “Well, must be off, or Prongs will wonder where I’ve gone. Goodbye, Remus!” He winked, and then he was off into the woods. 

Lily smirked sideways at Remus. “What was that about?”

Remus stared at Sirius’ retreating back. “I don’t know what you mean,” he insisted, but his voice was a bit too breathless for her to believe him. 

“Mmm,” she hummed, “well, I’m going if I can get away with it.” 

Her words forced Remus back to the present. “How? He’ll never let you go.” 

She rolled her eyes at him. “Severus need never know. We will say nothing, and if we must come up with some story, we will say that you are accompanying me into town for some errands. He trusts you, remember?”

Remus scoffed. “He trusts me not to cuck him, that’s for sure.” He looked suddenly horrified at his words. “Forgive me, please, I spoke without-” 

“No, you are right,” Lily said seriously, “and I plan to take full advantage of his notion. If he thinks that I cannot take care of myself without the assistance of a man, then I will appoint you my protector. Alright?”

Remus looked uneasy but nodded. “Alright.” 

“Good. Now, I’m off for the Lady’s Mantle. Do not touch that cut until I return.” 

“Yes, m’lady,” and then he surprised her by dipping into a low bow just as Sirius had done.

She giggled. “That’s much more like it.”


End file.
